


Not To Be A Karen...

by Millennialpink22



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxiety Disorder, Barista Richie Tozier, Coffee Shop, College, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Except not our current modern setting, Gift Fic, Like the world is less shitty, M/M, Meet-Cute, Starbucks, kind of a coffee shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24957106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Millennialpink22/pseuds/Millennialpink22
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak has had a hell of a week and wants nothing more than to enjoy his favorite (placebo) Medicine Ball tea from Starbucks. Unfortunately the barista completely screwed up his order and he doesn't want to inconvenience them but the longer he thinks about it and the longer he thinks about his favorite tea, the more he wants the drink he had been looking forward to all day even if that means being a "Karen."
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 84





	Not To Be A Karen...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [06_blue_eyed_boys_28](https://archiveofourown.org/users/06_blue_eyed_boys_28/gifts).



> Happy birthday to the highlight of my quarantine experience, 06_blue_eyed_boys_28!!! Thank you for making this quarantine slightly more bearable!!! :) You are such a sweetheart and deserve nothing except the world! I hope this serves to make you giggle and bring some warmth to your special day!  
> Enjoy my noodle!

Eddie Kaspbrak has had what he likes to refer to as “a week and a half.” Such a title is only reserved for enduring a five day academic week that just left him feeling inexplicably groggy, stressed, and on the verge of filling out the university withdrawal form despite being a senior— only one more semester after this one away from graduating and receiving a degree that would permit him two options: An enhanced chance of graduate school to prolong the excessive anxiety school brought to him or the ability to apply for an abundance of unpaid internships that would do absolutely nothing in order to help him pay off the boat load of student loans he had waiting for him once he received a piece of paper that cost more than his childhood home. 

His fall semester finals were quickly approaching so most of his time was spent _not_ getting the medically recommended amount of sleep for the average twenty-one year old as he was always up studying for exams and finishing projects and crying silently in the shower as to not wake the roommate he had to have in order help pay for his extremely overpriced off-campus apartment that while it had a beautiful open concept floor plan, had the shittiest wifi which was not suited for someone like him that admittedly procrastinated submitting most of his assignments within five minutes of the usual 11:59 p.m. deadline. 

Eddie, being a moron, had elected to sign himself up for a multitude of clubs and organizations his freshman year of college as he was bright-eyed and left under the impression that since he managed to wake up at 5am every single day of high school and power through a variety of extracurriculars that he could manage a seemingly lighter load of activities in college—he was wrong. He had ditched some of the clubs over the last four years but was still in a business fraternity (not to be confused with the douchey greek-life fraternities) and a philanthropic organization, both of which had events that he was required to attend this past week and being a senior, he felt obligated to stay around later than he’d initially signed up for in order to help the baby freshman who were attempting to get involved. Both of these clubs had at least three GroupMe chats each (A business one, a social one, and a 21+ one) and they were collectively blowing up his phone with stupid memes he’d already seen on Instagram, questions that were definitely answered in past meetings, and passive aggressive messages from the club presidents in regards to the participation of certain memebers. He thoroughly enjoyed his involvement in both clubs but with finals around the corner, they were quickly becoming a burden and simply another task to add onto his already excessive workload.

If the struggle that came with balancing his academic and social life wasn’t enough, Eddie could also feel a telltale scratchiness forming in the back of his throat. It could simply be the result of him screaming excitedly for his school at this past afternoon’s football game he’d gone to or a more likely cause— tuberculosis settling in his lungs. He truly could not afford to be sick right now with the semester winding down to the most stressful week of his existence and if college and capitalism had taught him anything it was that his physical and mental health meant absolutely nothing in comparison to his GPA and work production. 

He needed to nip any impending illness in the bud before it overwhelmed his system and left him limp, useless, and mentally incapable of completing the research project he’d been assigned back in October and would just now be opening the rubric file a day before the due date. This meant his diet was primarily composed of orange (but actually chalk) flavored vitamin C tabs and his favorite Medicine Ball tea from Starbucks. Logically, Eddie knew the tea was entirely placebo and would definitely not cure any illness that was attempting to wreak havoc on his exhausted system. Hell, the tea was not even allowed to be referred to as the “Medicine Ball” by baristas anymore for anti-vax mothers were genuinely convinced the tea could literally eradicate any ailment ranging from the common cold to a flesh eating virus and had posted such “results” all over their shitty Facebook pages which in turn brought harsh lashback form actual medical professionals over the false advertising Starbucks had unintentionally created. 

Eddie didn’t really care if the honey citrus mint tea was not a legitimate “cure all” to any sickness. It made _him_ feel more at ease and his therapist had informed him that if something were to alleviate any negative feelings, regardless of the lack of statistical evidence to back up any claims, he should continue using it for it could create him some peace of mind which he, as someone with an anxiety disorder, gravely needed. The tea, with the warm lemonade and the hint of cooling mint, always sat warmly in his stomach and made his eyes feel just a little heavier and his shoulders less tense. It soothed his throat with the abundance of honey they used and made the nap he typically took after consumption infinitely more revitalizing when it was time to wake up and scream at his computer screen whilst typing up an opinion he may not have even believed in but knew would tickle the interest of the professor that wouldn’t even read the paper or his sources and would probably skim it and decide _‘meh, good enough.’_ So, as Eddie zipped up his parka he decided that he would be sure to pick himself up one of the teas after completing his Target run. 

The Target was smaller than a typical one that someone would go to in a shopping strip as it was settled into the downtown area across from the south-west portion of his campus. It didn’t contain all of the amenities a typical Target may have but it was enough for college students living on campus to frequent the place enough for them to mark up all of their items by at least fifty cents as a “convenience fee.” Eddie knew this to be true. He got bored his sophomore year and decided to compare all the prices of basic items instead of completing an essay for one of his GenEds. He didn’t mind too much, however. Sure, he was already hopelessly broke as a college student but Target always created a warmth in his chest and an excitement in his consumeristic brain that no other place truly could and to live that close to one was enough to release endorphins he desperately needed. The combination of a Medicine Ball and a Target run could truly lift him enough to make him feel some semblance of sanity. 

He stepped out of the apartment building and his exposed nose was immediately assaulted by the biting cold that was definitely encouraging the bacteria that was surely residing in his lungs to multiply. He briefly felt his shoulders tense with anxiety and he was about to turn back around and not purchase the toilet paper his roommate would definitely not buy and the snacks he needed to make studying more bearable in favor of isolating himself in his dorm and to facetime his best friend, Bill Denbrough whilst puffing on an inhaler and sanitizing his hands aggressively. _No._ He could not allow himself to indulge such fears and needed to remember what his therapist had told him about how the fears his mother had instilled in him were entirely illogical and based on her own mental illness and desire to control him by enhancing his own feelings of inadequacy. He would be fine walking in the cold and if for some reason his attempts at avoiding illness were unsuccessful, he would recover just fine. 

Once he managed to ground himself, he began the trek through the chilled air toward his Target. He allowed himself to pass the walk by quickly with the aid of his music that was set at a reasonable volume so as to not rupture his eardrums. He shoved his hands in his pockets and avoided eye contact from the groups of students walking around town toward the bars and fraternity houses. Eddie had plenty of friends and was certainly not a loner by any stretch—however he truly valued his alone time and while he might normally spend the night partying with his friends, he did occasionally need a weekend for himself and to not immerse himself in the limelight of college partying. There was just something blissful for his mind that came with ditching the party scene for a weekend and to just be at Target with himself and the other few individuals that were perhaps like him and needed a break from socialization or were too hungover from tailgating this past afternoon or were simply underage and had been rejected from entrance by arrogant frat boys.

He grabbed himself a pack of the more expensive toilet paper as despite the cost, he was not willing to give his asshole the displeasure of _Scott’s One-Ply Bathroom Tissue._ He then milled about the cosmetic aisles, skimming the products with appealing packaging and electing not to buy any of it as he could not afford it and because his skin regime was pretty solid as of now and he didn’t want to risk changing it and inducing a sudden breakout because whoever told Eddie acne ended by adulthood was a fucking liar. He picked up a pack of his favorite mint gum and a few healthy and not-so-healthy snacks to enjoy while he worked on his final assignments. 

Given his desire to not be social, Eddie elected to go through the self-checkout, humming quietly to the music filtering into his ears from his classic Apple headphones which were decidedly not Airpods as he didn’t even own them and he knew he’d already lost them. As the card reader aggressively beeped him to remove his debit card after allowing it to sit in the slot just a millisecond too long, he became overjoyed as he remembered that he was about to treat himself to his citrusy tea. He was about to turn out of the store when he noticed the Target Starbucks was still open. 

He could just get his drink here rather than walking the extra block to the lone-standing one. However, Eddie was uncertain of this for there was something just a little off about the way Target Starbucks always made their drinks. They were never 100% right and they lacked the same flavorful love one found in a legitimate Starbucks store. He was torn. Eddie huffed to himself, about to SnapChat Ben Hansom to get his opinion as to which Starbucks he should go to. Ben was used to Eddie being an indecisive dumbass and helping him collect his abundance of thoughts. Out of habit, Eddie ended up opening his SnapMaps and _that_ made the decision for him. 

He could clearly see Victor Criss’s blonde haired Bitmoji. Victor Criss was a former biology partner from a project that Eddie had _completely_ obliterated in a peer review, thus wrecking his final grade. Eddie was completely in the right however, because Victor didn’t even know how to correctly complete APA citations and left Eddie fixing his entire portion of the project the night it was due. How the hell does someone make it this far in college and _not_ know how to complete such a simple task?

Since Eddie was the reason Victor had to retake Bio 230 and he had no desire for confrontation, he decided Target Starbucks was the optimal decision. There isn’t anyone else in line so Eddie steps to the register where a bland faced woman sits, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else than behind the counter, servicing a college student. It is close to closing so Eddie really cannot blame her but he wants his tea nevertheless. He orders himself a Venti Honey Citrus Mint Tea and she doesn’t even make an attempt at putting up the facade of a cheery employee but it doesn’t really matter to Eddie. He’s just excited to get his tea.

He steps to the side, bouncing on his heels and obverving as students filter in to grab themselves some mixers for the night or gum to mask the scent of alcohol tainting their breath. It’s not long (seeing as he’s the only one the woman is serving) until his tea is ready. He quickly recycles the cup sleeve, electing to use the heat of the cup to warm his gloveless fingers for the walk home. 

Eddie steps out of the Target, about to take a sip from the drink when he feels the steam warm his face. It’s certainly going to burn off his taste buds and make the rest of the drinking experience feel slightly off if the tip of his tongue has had the first few layers burnt off. Plus, he already knows how tea works and it probably won’t even be as flavorful if he drinks it now as it’s properly not even fully steeped so he should wait till he gets back to his building as it should be cool enough and flavored enough for him to truly enjoy. He makes it back to the building and manages to get on the elevator before the door closes and go off to one of the twelve other floors. For the amount he pays, he figures that there would be more than one functioning elevator for the sheer amount of students living there—but that would certainly be too much to ask. 

He gets off on his floor and fast walks himself to his apartment. He shoves his headphones in the pocket of his joggers and sets out to put his groceries and toilet paper away. After everything is in its rightful place, he settles himself on the couch, remote at the ready and takes one fat gulp from his tea, expecting to be hit with lemony goodness with subtle notes of mint. However, that is definitely not the case. Instead his taste buds are immediately triggered into a memory of the last time he had a stomach bug and was choking down excessive amounts of shitty peppermint tea to settle the gurgling in his gut. He instantly hates the tea and grimaces as the warm liquid slides down his throat like hot mouthwash. _This_ definitely cannot be what he ordered he thinks as he gently pulls off the white lid, not wanting to spill any of it on his wood flooring.

And no, it’s not what he ordered. The color is not the amber colored concoction he’s had several times before and he notices the two tea bags floating in the steaming water are not one Jade Citrus Mint and one Peach Tranquility, but are two Mint Majesty bags. 

“Motherfucker!” Eddie groans, slumping back into the cushions of the couch. He had been excitedly anticipating the steamed lemonade and honey flavoring since he first left his apartment earlier that evening and now he was stuck with a shitty tea he could probably make if he heated up the Listerine bottle under his sink. He grumbles as he stares down the white cup before him, realizing he should have just risked running into Criss and gone to an actual Starbucks that would have had some quirky college student working behind the counter that made jokes about how they hated working and complimented the beanie embroidered with a cursive ‘E’ that Stan had gotten him for his birthday. Regular Starbucks _rarely_ fucked up his extremely simple order. 

He _really_ does not want this drink and is about to dump it down the sink and seethe about the apartment instead of starting some of his work. But a niggling in the back of his mind reminds him of how expensive Starbucks is and he, as a college student, really cannot afford to be dumping his money down the sink. But he also knows there is no way in hell he’s about to choke this disgusting drink down his throat. He wants nothing more than to go back and inform them he was made the wrong drink but then he remembers the _Karen_ memes clogging up his Instagram and Tiktok feed. He does not want to be like any of those stereotypical women. He understands the struggle of working in food service as he’s done that every summer since the start of college and white women bitching about minor mishaps to their five dollar order and demanding excessive amounts of compensation from not only him but his manager was truly the worst part of his entire existence. 

Eddie wants nothing more than to be snuggled on the couch, sipping on his most favorite drink. It always does wonders in soothing his mind and the fact that he did spend his money on a drink that is more expensive than this stupid mint tea has him longing to run back up the block and into the Target Starbucks to get the drink he actually wanted. He could just go to the real Starbucks and order himself his actual drink but Eddie does not want to fork over more money and to be forced to waste this bullshit toothpaste-flavored leaf water. 

His longing for the tea and the fact that he is too broke to waste any money (especially when he shouldn’t even be buying Starbucks in the first place) fuels him to slip his shoes back on and to zip his coat back up. He needs to get the drink he ordered no matter how bad his anxiety is screaming at him not to do it because he will simply be inconveniencing the unhappy barista that had been behind the counter. God, he’s going to have fucking spit in his drink, isn’t he? Then he’ll _really_ get tuberculosis or some shit that will make his final exams ten times harder than they already are. It doesn’t matter, he mentally decides as he begins scripting the nicest way of explaining that his order was screwed up and he would like to have what he actually ordered. He will certainly offer to pay for the drink he wanted but hopefully the woman is kind enough to acknowledge the mishap and just chuck the minty bullshit tea and give him the placebo tea he desperately craves.

He almost wants to terminate the mission of getting his drink when he steps outside and is quickly reminded that he decided to (stupidly) stay in the northern part of the United States for college when a flurry of snow blows into his face and nips at his sensitive pores. But, _no._ Eddie wants his fucking tea and he wants it now he decides as he quickens his pace toward Target. He sidesteps around some people who have managed to obliterate their livers before nine and are stumbling down the sidewalk and past a few groups of students that are just starting off their night with loud and potentially incriminating conversations. He could care less; he just wants his tea.

He walks back into the Target and walks over to the Starbucks and notices the **CLOSED** sign sitting upon the top of one of the registers and his heart immediately drops to his stomach.

“FUCK.” He instinctively grumbles to himself as his shoulders fall and he realizes he is going to have to walk to the other Starbucks and spend more money if he actually wants to get the drink he’d been anticipating. 

Just as he’s about to pitch the drink in his hand and stomp over to the actual Starbucks, a head belonging to a person who must have been kneeling below the register pops up and Eddie’s heart immediately leaps. The young man, clearly college-aged and using this as a gig to pay for their overpriced university, is _extremely_ attractive in Eddie’s opinion. He is extremely tall, gangly, and looks about two cigarettes away from both of his lungs collapsing. His mop of curly, black hair is overgrown underneath his Starbucks cap which proudly features a bi and gay pride button pinned just above the brim. _Score,_ Eddit thinks to himself. His jaw is square juxtaposed against soft, almost feminine cheekbones. His blue eyes are heavily magnified behind a pair of glasses that should be the dorkiest things Eddie’s ever laid eyes on but for some reason, they just seem to _fit_ this particular specimen before him.

“You okay?” The guy, **_RICHIE_ **according to the nametag Eddie able to make out from behind the counter, asks in a slightly nasally voice.

“Uh,” Eddie starts dumbly, “You’re closing it’s no big deal.” 

Richie cocks his head like a puppy and Eddie feels his heart do a weird skippy thing that is definitely not the heart condition his mother tried to convince him that he had as a kid. “Something wrong?”

Eddie laughs sporadically and says, “I really don’t want to be a Karen but I was just here like twenty minutes ago and I ordered a Honey Citrus Mint and the woman made me a mint tea and I would be okay with it but I don’t like mint by itself and it’s probably my fault because I tend to mumble but I was going to see if I could try to get another tea or something but I don’t want you to open everything back up for me.”

Richie simply busts out laughing at that and holds his hand out to the cup in Eddie’s hand. “It’s no big deal. We _just_ closed. Everything is still ready to go and tea is honestly the easiest thing to make, doll.” Eddie nearly _preens_ at that. “Honey Citrus Mint, right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles meekly. “I’m so sorry I’m the absolute worst. My mom can be a total Karen and I just don’t want to be like that.”

“You’re totally fine…” Richie looks at the side of his cup where his name is messily scrawled, “Eds.”

Did the woman really mess up his _name_ too? It’s not exactly a hard name to spell right. Sure, he’s gotten his fair share of ‘ _Eddy’_ in the past but _Eds_? That’s definitely not right. “Oh it’s supposed to say Eddie.”

“It does. Eds just suits you.” Richie snickers as he begins making Eddie’s tea. As Richie pulls out the lemonade and begins boiling water he looks over to Eddie. “Do you want more water or more lemonade in yours?”

Eddie is surprised at that. No barista has ever asked him what he would like his water to lemonade ratio to be in this tea. But he feels as if he’s already burdened this attractive boy enough. “Uh, whatever requires less effort on your part.”

Richie snorts. “It tastes better with more lemonade so I’m gonna do more lemonade for you, Eddie Spaghetti.” 

“You’re the expert here.” Eddie shrugs, feeling the anxiety melt from his body as Richie continues to tease him whilst making the drink. 

As Richie mixes in the honey he looks up at Eddie and says, “Hey Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re the worst.” Richie snickers. 

“I’m sorry!” Eddie immediately squeaks, the guilt complex resurfacing.

“I’m kidding!” Richie chortles. “I literally do not mind at all.” He hands him the cup, smiling with something Eddie could only describe as longing. 

“You still want your constipation tea?” Richie asks, holding up the original cup. 

“No. It makes me think of _that_ when I drink it.” Eddie huffs around a laugh, noticing a number on the bottom of the cup. His eyes widen slightly when he realizes it’s probably not coordinates to a cult meeting and is most likely the digits to Richie’s phone number. “Oh.”

Richie quickly speaks up as he takes note of Eddie’s expression. “I’m sorry. Was that too far? I might have read _this_ wrong.”

“What? No!” Eddie quickly says as his heart begins to pound. Richie definitely read him right. He’s just surprised that Richie really did not think he was being a total Karen and is interested enough in him to give him his phone number. “I’ll...I’ll text you, Richie.”

“I...I’ll be off soon. I just have to close the other register and clean up this mess I made from making tea for this short and bitchy customer that had cute freckles” Richie quickly says, his own nerves reflective in his uncertain expression.

“I have homework.” Eddie immediately answers thinking about the unopened textbook in his backpack and his Macbook that is still opened up to The Sims 4 instead of the project description he’s not read since it was assigned. However, Eddie quickly decides he can afford to put it off when he notices Richie’s face fall dramatically and slightly bucked teeth gnawing sadly at his bottom lip. “But I can definitely put that off a little longer.” 

Richie immediately beams and Eddie, in his entire twenty-one years of anxiety-riddled existence has never seen a smile that was capable of lightening his heart the way Richie’s does to him. “Alright! I’ll be quick for ya, Eds!” 

Eddie smiles at that, seating himself at the neighboring counter while Richie muddles about behind the counter. He takes a sip of the tea and while it’s not fully steeped and burns the tip of his tongue, it tastes infinitely better and made with more love than he could have ever gotten from a normal Starbucks on the first try. Sometimes it pays off to be a Karen because while you might not get to speak to the manager, you might actually get a date with the adorably goofy barista.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this, friend! You are incredibly gifted and talented in so many fields and are gonna do amazing things one day! :) 
> 
> for the rest of ya non-birthday friends:
> 
> Is this completely based off an experience I had? You bet your sweet ass it is... literally word for word...the only exception being I did not reciprocate the flirting from the other guy because I am shy. It is a common problem I have where I vehemently reject the idea of anyone finding me remotely flirt-worthy because I look like a little boy that hasn't seen the sun EVER. Honestly I could continue to post fics and Reddify them based on my hilarious experiences with handling flirty humans. Yikes. 
> 
> The campus/downtown set up is based on my own campus because I'm familiar with that obviously and I go to college in a small ass college town so if it seems odd that is why. 
> 
> I hope this was an okay read and a decent solo fic not related to AMAK!!! Please let me know if it was enjoyable! :)


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